Ruler of a Land, King of None
by neongoat
Summary: Somewhere between being spared out of the goodness of the young Hero's heart and watching Hyrule politically punch itself in the face, Ganondorf tries to learn what it's like to regret, and somehow, to live a "normal" life. ((Sorry for the slightly bad summary. My first LOZ fic, so maybe a little OOC. Rating is subject to change. Cover Image by me.))
1. After the Fall

He remembered that first night, when he arrived at the gates of the castle town. It was cold and rainy, and quite frankly, the man had never seen so much rain in his life. The drawbridge was just about to close when he rumbled onto the strong planks atop his horse.

The deep black Gerudo steed was nearly heavy enough to hold the door down, even though it was barely past being two years old. Ganondorf called out to the guards who were raising the drawbridge, although it was a bit pointless considering he was already inside after a few seconds.

That night, he checked into an inn, his horse boarded for the night in a stable. He could have sworn that if he'd sneezed one more time he might just cease to function. Wet weather was not something a Gerudo often dealt with.

He probably should have felt more confident about walking out into broad daylight the next day; seven feet tall and the only male member of a race known to be great warriors. However, among the people of the kingdom of Hyrule, he couldn't feel more out of place. The tallest man he saw was a good head shorter than him, and probably scrawny enough for a toothpick, but he still had the one thing which would eventually cause him to betray one kingdom only to be betrayed by another, his own: The want to fit in.

At his former home, he was often worked up into a passionate storm over conquering a kingdom he had never seen so that its people might accept him. Now, he just wanted to fade into the crowd. He never planned on the daunting roadblock of social anxiety; after all, in the desert, everyone was either below him or dead. He had no worries.

Different. To be like the Hylians, you had to be different from everyone else. Separate from the earth beneath them and the fauna on it. Owners of it all instead. They were so isolated by their "godliness". Even the mysterious Zoras in the Northeast were rumoured to hold more warmth and courtesy; though in due time he would learn that the Gorons of Death Mountain were much more hospitable. And much easier to manipulate.

He almost didn't feel sorry at all when he ripped the kingdom of Hyrule from their fragile little hands.

Almost.

* * *

He could still taste his own blood. Not that that was a new thing through all his years, but the burning in his lungs and the humility that had flooded him at the moment of his fall made the metallic taste sting his throat that much more.

He knew he was still alive, and regrettably so. However, struggle as he might, he could not open his eyes. His hearing had just begun coming back, though, and he could hear voices around him. He could tell from their proximity and from his position that he was lying on a bed in a room. He didn't quite have the energy to question it, so he just listened.

One of the voices was rather deep, but soft and practiced, almost regal. The other was careful and weak, like it wasn't often used. Although he had never heard it speak more than a few words, and in a yell at that, he could recognize it.

"I know that you are able to see the good in most everyone. However, you must not linger on the subject any longer. We were told to lock him away!" The one with the stronger voice seemed almost frightened.

"I know..But— give me a chance.." There was a pause and a sigh from both. They seemed very synchronized. The quiet one spoke up again.

"If he acts up again...If I really have to...I-I'll finish what I started..." it was almost a whisper.

Ganon immediately tuned out the conversation after that. What fools! Surely they didn't think...Oh, who was he kidding? He couldn't even open his eyes right now. He was distracted from his internal raving when he heard a chair scoot close to where he was laying.

"Hey, I saw you open your eyes once, I know you're awake."

It hit him then. He had opened his eyes, but he couldn't see. That meant he was blind. Wonderful. His kingdom had only just fallen and he felt himself wanting to cease to exist.

"You look horrible. I'm really—"

He already disliked the idea of the brst sitting next to him. He didn't want to hear any whining. "Please, spare me the bitching!"

There was a moment of silence hanging in the air.

"No."

He groaned. Wasn't there anything else this sniveling brat could do with his life? Go out and look for seashells or take a nap or kill keese or something?

Link spoke up again, although 'spoke up' was a bit of an exaggeration.

"I know you won't say it, and no one else in the Kingdom will probably say it.." he had to pause, he obviously wasn't used to speaking this many words at once. Looked like he'd have to grow out of being a mute.

"But...I'm sorry."

Ganon opened his mouth to say something and almost flinched when he felt a small hand on his shoulder. The small Hylian continued talking, determined.

"I'm sorry that all of this happened. I never asked for all of this. Neither did my mother, or Sheik, or all the rest of the Kingdom."

He wanted desperately to shut the brat up. To rot away in peace and vanish for another hundred years. "And neither did I! Do you think I want to be alone, in pain and blind?"

Link was silent for a moment. Back to the way Ganon could tolerate it.

He was quieter this time. "I'll come back later. You need some time alone. I do too, sometimes."

He still spoke with the care of one who had only just learned the language, but behind that simplicity was a barely audible fierceness. The kind of fierceness that toppled towers. And that, for some reason, was unsettling.

After he heard the door close again, Ganon just kind of laid there, staring up into the blackness. He wondered if his vision would ever return. This was horrible. He felt pathetic. He brought a kingdom down in a day, and now the last nine years meant nothing because it had gone from him just as quickly.

He had no followers. The halls of his stronghold were empty. Even his former second-in-command, Nabooru, had left him. He couldn't blame her; after all, who would stay with the reject of her people when everyone else needed her back home?

He sighed again. Just nine years ago— yesterday for him, really— he had been full of ambition. He had thought that maybe, just maybe, his people would be impressed with him. No more rejection. He who had brought his people up and out of the sands. Now, nobody in the world would trust or accept him. Why should he go on anymore?

All this stress had exhausted him. Letting his head fall to one side, he closed his eyes. Sleep was, for once, silent. Not peaceful, but silent.

* * *

"Hey, come on, you have slept for two days now. This is completely ridiculous."

It wasn't the brat for once. A relief. Ganon opened his eyes and for the first time, he could see. The downside was that it was like looking through ice. Shapes and colours could be accounted for, but no depth or detail. Oh well. Good enough.

"Sit up." The voice was commanding. As he sat up, he could feel every stiff muscle trying hard to right itself. Ganon winced as his shoulders and back cracked loudly. Magic meant immortality, but not perfect health.

He looked at short thing next to him. He could see blond hair, covering half of a tanned face, set with a wide and bright crimson eye.

"A sheikah." he looked back at the blond hair. "...A half sheikah." Ganon was thinking his observations aloud. Harmless as it was, the young Sheikah stepped back. "Not to worry. What is your name?"

He looked up at Ganon warily, ready to bolt at any second. "Sheik."

Ganon nodded. He knew the name; after all, Sheik was the Sheikah spy who had betrayed him by providing information on his stronghold to the hero. "You are a brilliant young mind." He figured there was no use in fighting anyone, or trying to avenge himself. Sure, the kingdom was still vulnerable and a traitor stood before him, but what could he possibly accomplish in his current state? And alone?

"I only came here to bring you food, at the request of the young hero." Sheik's eyes narrowed. "He is occupied, but sends his regards." his voice was scathing and forced.

The sheikah gestured at a table in the corner, accompanied by two chairs. They were all vague brown shapes to Ganon. "Alright." the Gerudo nodded. He watched as the blue shape hurriedly departed, hearing the lock of the door click loudly.

Carefully, Ganondorf stoof from his bed and began to move toward the table. His knees and ankles felt weak and sore, and before he could stop himself, he slipped, landing hard on one knee on the hardwood floor. Of course, being a massive person, this didn't end very pleasantly. "Damn!" he cursed aloud. He couldn't stand this humiliatingly weak and vulnerable state.

It was on examining his knee that he realised the red blotch of blood from his fall had gone through white fabric. He actually took time to examine himself. It seemed he'd been redressed in clothing made from some kind of fine white linen. He had no shoes.

Finally, he made it to the table, sitting uneasily in one of the small wooden chairs. He couldn't tell much about what was in front of him, except that it was in a bowl. Deciding he probably shouldn't starve, Ganon picked up the little spoon next to the bowl and took a bite of the food. It was some kind of soup full of potatoes and Cucco meat. Good enough. He hadn't had decent food in awhile anyways.

Once he had eaten, and paced, and sat, and discovered the chamber pot in the corner, and looked out the window, and then paced some more, he decided that the room was sufficiently boring. All that was visible out the window was grey sky and yellow grass. If your vision was shit, it all kind of conglomerated into a shitty blur.

Finally, he laid in his bed again and slept. What fun.

Eventually, he woke to a knock on the door. Finally, one of these peasants was being polite. "Come in."

Of course the first person to come into his now-cleared vision had to be that damned brat.

"You're awake." ugh, why did the kid even care? "How are your eyes?"

Ganon shrugged, frowning. He shouldn't have to deal with scrutiny by a damn tiny child.

Link sat in one of the chairs. Goddamnit, that meant he would be staying awhile. Might as well try to be civil. Ganon sat up, still aching like hell all over.

"So, I know you don't want to hear any of this."

"That would be correct. But by all means, go on. "

The quieter of the two nodded, surprised that he was being appointed leave to speak this time.

"I know why you did it all."

Ganon was immediately irked. How could this insolent whelp possibly comprehend the driving force behind the conquest of a nation? Before he could speak, the Hylian continued.

"We all want to fit in." he cleared his throat.

Fortunately for him, Ganon was mildly intrigued for what he had to say. Boldness, after all, was one of the most captivating traits Ganon saw in Hylians. So he listened.  
"When I was small..I still thought I was a Kokiri. I was raised as one, so I acted as one. Until Navi came along, I just had to accept that I was different." He met Ganon's amber gaze and knew that somewhere deep he had struck a chord.

"Then, I learned I wasn't. People said that because I had grown, I was obviously a Hylian instead." He leaned back in his chair, obviously not nervous or afraid. That ticked Ganon off, but he couldn't be assed to do anything about it. He didn't feel like being razed again.

Ganon did, however, decide he wanted to get a word in. "So? You're a Hylian. The matter is solved."

Link shook his head. "I wasn't. I had no sense of identity, well, that's how Navi explained it. My loyalty wasn't to a kingdom, and the forest that raised me forgot about me. So I was no one but Link. That's still who I am. Just me."

Ganondorf furrowed his brow. "So, you mean to say you belong to nobody, work for a kingdom because you were told to, and are comfortable with being a stranger? And you can go on?"

Link nodded. "Ganondorf, I know your people weren't kind to you. I've been told your childhood was cruel. Navi told me you wanted a kingdom because you were lonely."

Ganondorf felt the sting in the last sentence. It hit home. It made him feel vulnerable and he didn't like that. He stood and leaned over the table, pinning Link against the wall with one hand, though the Hylian showed no fear. He looked the blond in the eye, angry.

Ganon spoke through gritted teeth. "You don't know my past the way I do. I suggest that you leave now." He released his grip.

Link returned his glare, not flinching. "It was a past you didn't deserve." with that, he slipped away and out the door, leaving Ganon to himself. Maybe, the Gerudo thought, just maybe, he's right.


	2. First Steps Back In

The next few weeks for Ganondorf were full of questioning what his fate was to be, mixed with only a few visits from that brat about trivial things. Said young man had only served to become slightly less annoying. He eventually started letting the brat stay for longer periods of time. The visits at least provided some company and, as much as he hated to admit it, the Gerudo had become accustomed to the young Hylian's regular presence.

One night when the young Hero had come in to sit and talk as usual, he had looked rather notably irked about something if not a bit aged, and Ganondorf could see the disdain for the royal life in Link's eyes. This elicited a smirk from the older man. "Too much work living like a king?" He knew exactly the kind of expectations put on a young king or king-to-be, and so it was more rhetorical than anything.

Link frowned and gave an exasperated nod. He looked rather angrier than normal. "Yes. I feel…too damn occupied." It was the first time Ganondorf had ever heard him curse, and it didn't suit the young man very well. The Hylian shook his head. "Anyhow, I am here to discuss neither political nor personal matters." The mention piqued Ganondorf's interest, but he decided against inquiry.

"I wanted to invite you to our autumn feast. I know that you have been cooped up in here for awhile now and I feel it's important for you to be there."

Ganondorf shook his head. "Of course, but I have only peasant's clothing as of now. I must attain proper attire, first." He was sure the young man knew exactly what he was asking.

Link thought for a moment, then nodded. "Alright. I can't promise that I'll bring you what's best."

"So long as it's decent and fitting, I have no qualms."

With that short exchange over, Link bid him farewell and left him to his own devices.

* * *

Link sat on the edge of the massive bed in the royal chambers, already down to nothing but a plain white tunic, hair down and looking rather messy. He looked across the chamber at Sheik, who was doing something with his face.

Removing the second of a pair of delicate blue contact lenses, the ruler sighed. Even after these 18 long years, it was still difficult to make himself play pretend. However, for the sake of his late father, he upheld his obligation to make the people happy and give them someone to believe in.

Link scooted under the comforter, curling up on his side. "My king, do you feel that I've made a mistake by inviting him to the feast?"

Sheik walked over and sat down, removing the obnoxiously large triforce-shaped earrings from his ears and putting them down on his bedside table. "Dear, you must make that decision for yourself. It is, after all, one of Farore's miracles that we even have enough food left for this. And besides," he laid down on top of the comforter. "Don't refer to me as your king; you are to assume that title soon." He gave a gentle smile.

The young Hylian gave a huff. "Why can't you just tell the truth and not have to pretend anymore?" Sheik couldn't see his face but he could tell the boy was probably pouting.

"The people have placed all their hope in the princess. If I tell them that she is a fraud, a lie, that they aren't even ruled by a pure-blooded Hylian," he paused to scoot under the comforter. "How would the people feel?"

"After all," Sheik continued, "We've even more secrets that they're sure to discover soon enough," he scooted closer, nuzzling his face into the back of Link's neck, which caused the other to squirm but eventually settle, face redder than fire.

Sheik took a deep breath. "And besides, lies… are important." He could feel his stomach churn with the sudden downturn in direction of his thoughts. "The people believe that your captive has amnesia, else there could be a mass hysteria and even revolt over his survival."

Link frowned. Life shouldn't be full of lies for the sake of comfort. Wasn't the truth important at all? "The people are so selfish." He sighed yet again.

Sheik shook his head. As full of childlike wonder the young hero could be, he supposed the only drawback had to be his stubbornness about the way society should be. Such was the way of a pure heart; untouched by the defeat brought on by cynicism.

At the beginning of their journey together just over two years ago, the two had shared a muffled intrigue at best. Sheik had felt bound by his duty to keep himself guarded. It had been that innocent admiration found so often in Link that had catalyzed their relationship.

The Sheikah could remember each and every one of their painfully scarce meetings in vivid detail— his mind seemed to hinge on certain things obsessively like that— and he couldn't find it in himself to regret a single one. At first, Sheik had been very afraid that the hero might not accept or understand the way he behaved and advanced, or that he could not come to accept the ideas behind Sheik's double life.

It was at the reveal of his false identity, not so long ago, that he could remember being more afraid than he'd ever been. The Sheikah, as young warriors, were trained not to fear even the blackest shadows. His mother had taught him that. So the fear was almost overwhelming to somebody who'd barely experienced it.

That dark evening, the approach on Ganondorf's stronghold had neared its end. Better now than never, as Sheik always figured, so he took a shot in the dark. And so dark it was. The sky over most of Hyrule had been cast over with dark clouds. Rain poured down as though it were the tears of the goddesses themselves, weeping for want of a just and pure world.

Not long after Sheik had caught Link's attention once again, he interrupted their usual small-talk and gave a deep sigh. "There are things…I want to tell you." Another spiel about the History of Hyrule followed, of course listened to with sincere eagerness. "And the other, who holds the Triforce of Wisdom…is the Seventh Sage, who is destined to be the leader of them all…" his voice cracked as he raised his hand in front of himself and felt his magic envelop him. "It is I." his head dropped.

As simple as he could be, it was then that Link realized Sheik had been the one to give him his prophecy, his quest, his objective. He was both the one who entrusted him with the royal treasure and his life. It had been Sheik who wore a façade for the sake of his people. And before Link could profess his unyielding acceptance of his best friend's life choices, just like that…Sheik was gone. Snatched away.

A shining treasure enveloped in dark clouds, pursued by the light.

Sheik was abruptly pushed from his memories by that thought. Another prophecy, certainly urgent in nature, he was sure. But he figured that as long as Link was involved, he was safe. If the clouds represented danger, as always was the case, then the light was what would part them.

Link had been busy frowning at the day's newsprint, now sitting up in the bed, no doubt angry about some kind of tiny proletariat rights group, bent on the fall of the monarchy, that had resurfaced with the fall of Ganon's reign. He looked up from the newspaper, mouth open to say something, but upon seeing that Sheik was watching him with genuine concern, his expression softened a little. "I supposed some people just need a little work." He yawned. "The fight doesn't always end cleanly, I guess."

Sheik smiled, sure that the young hero would eventually learn that not everyone who was not evil could be good.

* * *

Not everyone who wasn't evil turned out to be inherently good. Just like not everyone who did bad things was inherently evil. Because evil people didn't have a conscience that plagued them with nightmares, right?

Ganondorf struggled to remove the strong grip he could feel pushing him to the ground, but it was to no avail. Then, suddenly, out of the darkness, the glint of a long steel blade rushed toward his face. The collision in the center of his forehead brought on some of the most excruciating pain he'd ever suffered. He first heard the gem in the middle of his circlet shatter, then nothing else.

And then the sensation of cold metal splitting his skin and breaking bone pushed into him. It all dragged on for hours and hours as the feeling of the sword pushing into his brain made him want to cry out like a small child. \And so he did.

For the first time in over twenty years, he woke up sputtering and screaming. It took him several minutes of fumbling around in the dark to pull his tangled bedcover away from his face before the pale moonlight tumbled into his teary eyes and the rest of the room. The jarringly peaceful sight grounded him a bit. Still very much alive, he prayed to the goddesses that nobody had heard him cry out.

He was taken aback greatly. For the first time in over two decades, he felt overwhelming fear. Not anger, or a simple, harmless anxiety, but he had awoken in full-blown fear. In the face of defeat, he was honestly grateful for the first time that the young Hero had shown such mercy to him on the edge of his death bed.

Ganondorf rolled onto his side and curled up. He couldn't stand feeling so disgustingly vulnerable. At least he was alive, not that the thought was very comforting. He decided that he was most definitely not getting any sleep for the rest of the night.

That was why it was a profound relief when someone knocked on the door not long after sunrise. He didn't do much other than sitting up; he would rather not have bothered. "Come in." The door opened and in came two short Hylian men carrying a single large, gilded chest. They sat it on his table and left without a word. Intrigued, he got up to investigate.

Opening the chest, he found a reasonable amount of folded clothing inside: basic white linen under-layers, and then what appeared to be a militaristic white uniform embroidered with golden thread as an accent, and a pair of standard black dress shoes in the side of the chest, looking newer and more well-crafted than most shoes he'd ever seen or owned. Which was a pretty sad thought.

Intrigued as to whether the Hylians had gotten the needed measurements correct (and if so, how), he donned the new clothing. White really would not have been his colour of choice, but if a Hyrulean Guard uniform was all he could get, he wouldn't really complain. After all, the uniform didn't look half bad. After a moment, his thoughts flashed back to his invitation to the feast. He was certain his arrival would cause mass hysteria or even a riot. Maybe it was a set-up. For now, he was going to chalk it up to that the Queen was going to have him executed and wanted him to be caught off-guard for the ceremony. Surely that was it.

Surprisingly enough, the uniform fit right down to the shoes. Well, if this was to be a pre-meditated execution, at least he would be comfortable and dignified. He turned his attention back to the gilded chest he'd been brought. Just before reaching to lower the life, his eyes were caught on another piece of folded material. It seemed awfully familiar.

Picking up the red article of fabric, he pulled it from the chest and let it unfold in his hands, reaching all the way to the floor. He couldn't believe they'd actually bothered.

In Ganondorf's hands was a flawless recreation of the cloak he'd been wearing at the days of his fall; right down to the weave of the original. It was most certainly not a cheap and easy mend, either; there was neither wear nor tear or even material found in the original here. Those Hylians were either psychopaths or just very attentive. But mostly mysterious.

Easily attaching the cloak to the epaulets of his uniform, he strode over to the rain-fogged window and took in what little was visible of his reflection. None too shabby, although during the last few unreasonably occupied years, he hadn't bothered to cut his hair and so it had grown long and not been kept up especially well. He began running his hands through the mess, slightly ashamed of himself.

Once neatened a bit, he decided that the look actually suited him and that there was no need to cut his hair any time soon. Just then, he heard a knock on the door, rather quick and eager. Still combing his fingers through his hair, he turned to face the door. "Come in."

As he expected, it was his usual visitor, Link. The short blond stepped in, pausing momentarily. He eyed the Gerudo across the room from him all but briefly. He was honestly surprised at how different his former enemy looked. The clothing he'd personally ordered into production suited the former king well. He'd realized after a moment that he hadn't said anything and his gaze shot to the ground, face reddening a bit.

Ever observant, Ganondorf had noticed the look on the young man's face, but decided to spare him the humiliation and grief and so chose a different subject. "I suppose I should give you," he hesitated a moment, reluctant to let it out. "..My thanks."

Link's eyes quickly shot up from the ground, brows nearly crawling into his hair. "O-Oh. No, it's no problem at all. I-I mean, it took some coaxing to get the job done," he gestured toward Ganondorf's clothing, "But it's…fine." He paused, shaking his head at all the tiny, unvoiced thoughts his head was making toward the Gerudo's appearance. "Anyways, the feast is very soon. I need to discuss something important with you."

Ganon moved to settle one shoulder against the wall, arms folded. "Alright." He was glad at least one person other than him had a genuine concern with how the event would carry out. After all, he admittedly did not like being a societal outcast. Not that it was a very easy thing to fix in his case.

Link walked over and sat on the edge of the bed so that he wouldn't have to yell across the room. Ganondorf hadn't realized at first that the hero was clad in normal civilian's clothing for once; a black button-down and tan pants tucked into boots. Pretty casual for the soon-to-be king of Hyrule. Ganondorf quickly pulled himself from his thoughts as the blond began to speak.

He took a deep breath. "The civilians believe that you have amnesia." The look on his face was stern but always forgiving, as was the norm.

Ganon, quick to understand, nodded. "I presume that you would rather me mention no specific past events and no complex ideals." At that, Link nodded with a heavy sigh.

"I'm really sorry. You're probably already bored enough."

Ganondorf was never exactly surprised by the Hylian's sense of courtesy. Of course the Child of Destiny should have a pure heart and an always-heavy conscience. But to spare and even cater to his prophesized enemy? It was an absurd idea. The Gerudo nodded again after thinking to himself. "All is well and good; however, I would only ask of you to answer me one question."

Link looked up at him, eager to answer as always. "Yes?"

"Why do you feel that I of all people should be treated with such respect and courtesy after virtually annihilating the kingdom which destiny put into your hands?"

The Hylian didn't put much thought into his statement, probably having already weighed in on it personally. He looked Ganondorf in the eyes, baring his emotions wittingly and with purpose. "Well, honestly, I think you deserve a place to call home no matter what you've done. You've been hurt and deserve those wrongs to be righted."

Ganon's amber eyes looked deep into the vulnerable, clear pools set in Link's gaze and saw straight through them. The age-old reasoning that said everybody had goodness in them somewhere. Honestly, Ganondorf had scoffed at it for the longest time. "Surely you can't believe I'm worthy of redemption." He hadn't meant to bare his own insecurity and guilt in that statement, but one cannot unsay what is already said.

Link still held his gaze, determined to get his point across. "I know you don't really want to hurt and kill everyone. You have objectives, and you were taught to reach them that way." He caught Ganondorf off-guard yet again. This was seeming to have become a trend as of late. "You have reached the kingdom full of acceptance that you want. Don't listen to the greed that tells you it's all for power."

The Gerudo gave a rather heavy sigh. "You are wise beyond your years. However, I foresee none of this…acceptance."

Link cleared his throat. "Well, we can only try for that." He looked down for a moment before nearly jumping at a remembrance. "Oh—before I forget," he reached for something in his pants pocket and withdrew it in a closed hand, giving it to Ganondorf, who took it with care. Opening his hand, he saw that it was the topaz-adorned circlet that he had worn before, still intact. He looked at Link, who shrugged.

"I figured you might want it back."

Ganondorf nodded before reaching to fasten it to his forehead. "You have my appreciation."

"It's no problem."

Link looked back up to Ganondorf and for a moment he thought he saw a glimpse of open courtesy and hospitality. The man had changed already although neither actually acknowledged it. Link broke the silence with a quick blurt, "I'll return come time for the feast. Be prepared." He cleared his throat again and headed for the door.

Ganondorf nodded. "I'll…certainly do that." His gaze lingered on the door for a moment after the Hylian left. He wasn't exactly sure what had just transpired. The both of them were enemies, stoic in even the face of death. So why were they suddenly baring human emotion to one another?

Deciding his own composure was rather more important, he sat in the quiet, mulling over discussion topics he could and could not utilize. Basically, he had to play dumb, which repulsed him a little bit, but he would manage.

* * *

It was not very long before there was another knock on the door. He went to it and opened it. The blond brat was there, as usual, but this time he was in different clothing than before. Link wore the same white-and-gold uniform as Ganondorf, hair let down and slicked back. Damn, the kid cleaned up well. Ganondorf refused to let his mind wander to the boy's appearance any more, citing internally how such a thing should not elicit any kind of response from him. He quieted his thoughts.

"This way." Link began to lead him down a long series of corridors. This was the first time since Ganondorf's fall that he had been out of his room. For once, the both of them were quiet. He didn't question anything. Neither of them made any statements. For the first time in a decade, Ganondorf felt it: social anxiety. Honestly, he was in fear of the mass rejection he would feel upon crossing the threshold of the door they approached.

Link pushed open massive double doors, stepping through before Ganondorf. The Hylian cleared his throat loudly, getting the attention of a large table of people, at the head of which presided the Queen herself.

Everyone who looked in their direction immediately quieted and those who didn't notice Ganondorf's presence right away were drawn to look when they didn't get a response from their neighbor. There was quiet muttering among some, and Ganondorf knew it was about him.

Link spoke up and nearly everyone in the room other than himself and the Queen was taken aback by what he said. "I would like to welcome our newest citizen and guest of honour: Ganondorf Dragmire."

Ganondorf visibly paled. He looked toward Zelda that he might find answers, but her face was stoic, as though she was in on the joke. An honourable introduction as well as induction as a Hyrulean citizen was the last thing that he had expected. He was sure as hell that he would have been executed, although he still had to admit that there was an innocent fluttering of hope somewhere inside of him.

Bowing, Ganondorf took a much less aggressive approach than he might have taken in the past. He decided to paly along with the amnesia ploy. "My sincere apologies for having caused any commotion. To wake up with naught but memories of such a pure and kind kingdom is an honour. I owe you all my life." The words seemed to fight him, but he had been compelled, if only subtly, to try and do things right this time. Something in him didn't like being the cause of all the scared faces and he latched onto it.

And just as quickly as it had come to him, their attention left him. Most of them went back to quiet conversations and some less-composed people had to quiet themselves. Link got his attention. "Ganondorf. Your seat is that way," he gestured to the seat immediately to Zelda's right, occupied only by a placard emblazioned "RESERVED". He nodded and thanked Link before going to his seat.

For what seemed like a good two or three years, Ganondorf ssat and diffidently picked at his food. From the corner of his eye, he could see many people were too busy staring at him to eat. Finally, breaking the uncomfortable pocket of silence at the head of the table, Zelda spoke up. "You seem uncharacteristically nervous."

He looked up into the face of the queen, who had a familiar, piercing look in her eyes. "There are quite a few who find my presence discomforting," he spoke quietly. He honestly felt as uneasy as any of the others. He was still in no condition to fight if there just happened to be a riot or more than five of them decided to try anything funny.

She nodded. "Of course," her tone was bitter and scathing. "It's very well understandable." In that instance, his assumption that she was in on it all had been confirmed and under her critical gaze he could feel the helplessness of his childhood return.

Link was visibly bothered by the hostility in the exchange coming from Sheik, and even as Ganondorf pushed back his temper for his own sake, Link couldn't help but wear his emotions on his sleeve. The young man spoke up in an attempt to break the tension. "I believe this fortnight has been a triumph for us all." He was trying desperately to change the subject.

Ganondorf had mixed feelings on the subject. Both relenting his own fall and appreciating his being spared, he nodded. "I suppose it has." He gave his best attempt at a genuine smile, but the best he could manage was a sad- eyed, polite expression.

The queen's response was a curt nod, which at least gave Ganondorf and Link some relief in that it wasn't so very harsh as it could be. The rest of the evening was uneventful. Once Ganondorf had returned to his room, locked in again, he simply put away his uniform and laid down. There was no reassuring exchange with Link, no commendation for his behavior that evening. Nothing. So, in the silence, he slept.


End file.
